


Kiss the Mechanic

by HistoireEternelle



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gutterbugs, Le Classy Caniveau, Pornathon, Tumblr Prompt, car!porn, promptathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HistoireEternelle/pseuds/HistoireEternelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon said: seeing a fic where Red & Liz go at it on the hood of one of his cars would make me a very happy camper!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss the Mechanic

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been written for the Promptathon (or Porntathon as I like to call it) held by Le Classy Caniveau on Tumblr.  
> Don't hesitate to stop by and send us a prompt if you feel like it.
> 
> Thank you so much MinP1072 for your help!

Wandering the house they were staying in, Liz was looking for Red. After four days here, sharing his bed, she had woken up alone, surrounded by cold sheets. It was the first time his mouth hadn’t been on her when she opened her eyes. And she was missing his warmth and the soft moans he made when he made love to her in the morning. He had been insatiable. Since the moment they had breached that barrier in their relationship, he had worshipped her body at every opportunity. But not today. Today, she was alone. 

She was in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee, when she heard a muffled groan come from behind the door at the back of the room. She knew that door led to the garage, but had never been curious enough to push it open. Coffee in hand, she walked to the door and silently opened it. Taking a step inside, her breath caught in her chest. The room was immense and filled with vintage cars.

In front of her stood a red 1958 Plymouth Fury, the paint exactly matching the one she recalled from the movie  _ Christine _ . She ran her fingertips along the hood, walking further into the room. A few feet away, her eyes stopped on a cream colored 1949 Buick Roadmaster Convertible. Rain Man’s car.

Frowning, Liz kept walking, her fingers brushing the immaculate paint of the cars. They all seemed to be iconic cars from old movies.

Here was James Bond’s silver 1963 Aston Martin DB5 and there a 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500 she recognized from  _ Gone in 60 Seconds _ . She smiled when she spotted Sam and Dean’s black ‘67 Chevrolet Impala, shaking her head. Who’d have thought Raymond Reddington was such a movie geek?

Some weren’t movie cars. She could see at least two Mercedes S-Class sedans, near the garage door. They were obviously the ones Red used the most.

A soft grunt from the other side of the room startled her. Fascinated by the cars around her, she had forgotten why she had walked into the room in the first place. Listening carefully, she followed the metallic sounds she could hear from the far corner of the garage. Navigating between more vintage cars she didn’t recognize, she found what she was looking for.

A pair of legs clad in blue coveralls jutted from underneath the rarest car she had seen so far. James Dean’s ‘55 Porsche 550 Spyder. She must have made a noise, because the legs rolled from under the car, followed by Red’s torso and arms, and finally his head. He smiled when he saw her standing in front of the car, clad in one of his dress shirts and nothing more. From his spot on the floor, he must have had an eyeful of what was underneath the shirt, too.

“I was alone when I woke up,” Liz said, almost guiltily, when she saw his smile.

He jumped to his feet after dropping the tool in his hand and trailed his eyes over her body, his eyes darkening at the sight. Liz swallowed noisily at the sight of him. The coverall sleeves were knotted at his waist, his upper body clad in a stained white tank top, leaving his broad shoulders bare. She could see the muscles roll under his skin when he moved his shoulders and stretched his back, his spine cracking softly in the silence of the room. His hands were black with grease and some of it had spread up to his elbows. A single smudged stain marred his cheek.

He was gorgeous.

“You want to see my latest acquisition?” he asked, ignoring her words, a strange glint in his eyes.  
“Sure,” she replied, a little bit disappointed he didn’t kiss her good morning or propose a shower.

His hand hovering over the small of her back, he led her to the other side of the garage, where the most recent cars were parked. He stopped in front of a black sedan, with sleek lines that were a joy to behold. She looked at Red, puzzled. Yes, the car was beautiful, but it didn’t explain the grin on his lips.

“This is a Tesla Model S,” he said, his grin still in place. “You might think it’s just another car, but it’s custom made. Put your hand on the hood,” he added.

He nodded his head in encouragement when she hesitated. Shrugging, Liz placed her free hand on the car for a second before taking it back, looking at Red. He nodded again and she followed his stare. On the hood, where she had touched it, a soft, creamy pink handprint was disappearing, eaten by the black paint.

“How…?”  
“Thermochromic paint,” he said smugly, that strange gleam back in his eyes. “It changes color with the temperature,” he explained, taking a step forward.

He grabbed the cup in her hand before the coffee could spill over and, walking to the side of the car, laid it down on the floor next to the wheel. A sigh escaped Liz’s lips when he bent at the waist, the coverall hugging his bottom snugly. Feeling her eyes on him, he wriggled his ass playfully before standing up, smiling. He tilted his head to the side when he saw Liz worrying her lower lip before taking a step forward. Then another. Until he was standing a breath away from her. She was trapped between his body and the car behind her, exactly where he wanted her.

He took another step and her behind hit the hood of the car, her hands braced against the metal to keep her balance. His stare fixed on the material of his shirt stretched over her breasts and, from the corner of his eye, he saw red paint appear around her fingers and smiled smugly.   

Good, he thought. Her skin was much warmer now than it had been when she put her hand on the car the first time. Since the moment he had bought this car, seeing the imprint of Liz’s ass in the paint had been one of his fantasies. Even before they breached that last barrier, he had had Lizzie in mind.

“The shirt,” she breathed when he put his greasy hands on her hips to lift her onto the hood.

He shrugged, leaning forward to kiss her chest where it was exposed by the open collar of the shirt, pushing her to lay her back on the hood. The bumperless car offered no purchase for Liz’s feet and she started slipping, her sweaty palms leaving red streaks on the otherwise black car. Red grabbed her thigh, stopping her movement, and put it around his waist, leaving a dark handprint on her creamy skin. Following his gesture, Liz wrapped her other leg around him, locking her feet behind his back.

Her core now pressed against the knot at his waist, Liz ground her hips against him, gasping at the sensation. The rough fabric of the coverall was doing marvels for her clit. She had been wet since the moment she saw him in those clothes, and was determined to get satisfaction soon. His greasy hands yanking her shirt open and his mouth closing on her left breast seemed to indicate he was in the same state of mind.

She groaned when he swirled his tongue around her nipple, teasing it into a taut peak. One hand braced against the car, he squeezed her breast with the other, smearing it with grease. She pushed at his shoulders, her breast slipping from his lips as he straightened, arching an eyebrow in surprise. Her legs sliding from his waist to the back of his thighs, Liz pulled at the knot — untying the sleeves, she pushed the coverall down his legs with her feet. She watched him step out of it, his hands grabbing the bottom of his top and yanking it over his head.

The sensation of his clothes against her had been amazing, but Liz  _ knew  _ how skillful he was with his tongue. And she had missed him in their bed when she woke up all alone. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into her.

Bracing his weight on his hands on each side of her, Red resisted.

“Is there something you might need, sweetheart?” he asked, grinning.  
“Kiss me, or I swear to God…”

He smiled down at her, crooking an eyebrow. He loved bossy Lizzie as much as he loved tender Lizzie. She kept pulling at his neck for a moment until he decided to give in and closed the distance between their lips. But before he could kiss her, Liz put her hand on his mouth, stopping him.

“Not here,” she said.

Her hands slid from around his neck to his shoulders. He waited to see what she would do next and smirked when she pushed at his shoulders until he was kneeling on the concrete floor, using his discarded clothes as a cushion. Her legs were now on his shoulders, her bare foot caressing the back of his head tenderly.

“Here?” he asked, turning his head to kiss her knee. “Maybe not,” Red murmured when she sighed, her foot behind his head directing him where she needed him. He trailed his lips up her inner thigh, kissing and nipping at her soft skin. “Here?” he brushed his lips to the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs.

She moaned, the sound rumbling up her throat when he inhaled her scent deeply, filling his lungs with her essence. He could hear her pant, her back now flat on the hood of his car; he could see the red paint under her ass when she moved upward.

“Please, Raymond.” She finally gave in and begged.

Smiling smugly, Red slid his tongue into her, scooping up the moisture he found there, then ran his tongue up her folds to her clit. He could feel her tremble under his tongue, her back arched, her thighs tensed around his head, only his hands on her hips keeping her in place. She cried out when he closed his mouth on her clit, his tongue circling the tight bundle of nerves, never touching it directly. Her hips bucked against the grip of his hands, his fingers digging into her flesh to keep her still. His tongue now flat on her clit, he rubbed and circled, the tip of his teeth grazing her until Liz cried out, her thighs clamped on his head, the heels of her feet digging into his upper back. Red kept his tongue on her, prolonging her orgasm until she pushed feebly at his shoulders with her fingertips.

He sat back on his haunches when her legs released their grip on his head and ran his tongue over his lips, enjoying the taste of her. Looking up, he smiled when he saw her sprawled on the hood of the Tesla, patches of red paint, where her hands had tried to find some purchase on the polished metal, disappearing slowly. He could see her breasts rising rhythmically with her short breaths.

Moving her legs from his shoulders, Red stood up, his hands still on her thighs to keep her on the car. She was even more magnificent from this angle. The open shirt formed wings on either side of her body, the bright white cutting through the black of the hood; her dark hair was plastered to her sweaty forehead. His eyes traced the soft curves of her body, pausing on her breast where the imprint of his greasy hand stood out on her creamy skin, before moving to her hips, her ass surrounded by red where her body heat had activated the thermochromic paint. Looking down, he growled when he saw the moisture on the edge of the hood, and his cock throbbed in his boxers, begging to be buried deep into her heat.   

“Hold on to me,” he murmured.

Liz opened an eye slowly, her foggy brain trying to understand what he was talking about. It took her a few seconds before she could manage to wrap her legs around his waist. She rolled her head to the side, looking past her shoulder to see what he was doing when she felt his hands leave her thighs. Bending at the waist to slide his underwear down his legs, she gasped when he kissed her navel. She felt him kick his boxers to the side and watched his hands land on the car on each side of her, his body hovering over her. She looked up and, meeting his feverish eyes, Liz opened her mouth to speak, but his lips crashing on hers silenced her. She moaned deeply when his tongue met hers; her taste still lingering in his mouth sent a shiver up her spine.

Her legs sliding from his waist to his hips, Liz used her feet to pull him in, his arms bending at the elbows to cover her body with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him in place and ground her hips against him. His cock, trapped between them, rubbed against her oversensitive clit, sending jolts of electricity through her body. She drank his deep growl from his lips when she moved again, feeling his hand sneak with difficulty between their bodies to position his length at her entrance.

They both gasped, breaking the kiss, when Red slammed into her, the sound of flesh against flesh reverberating in the room. Their eyes locked, they moved at a frantic pace, their hips meeting thrust for thrust, the sweaty skin of his chest rubbing against her breasts, his hands cradling her head; she felt heat coil in her lower belly, fire flooding her veins. His mouth kissing her eyes, lips, nose, forehead, interwoven with her name breathed with adoration, with each thrust of his hips, was adding the tenderness she craved. Her nails digging into his back, her back arched, plastering her breasts to his chest, Liz felt herself fall over the edge once again on a cry of pleasure, taking him with her.

She ran her hands over his back when Red collapsed on her, his breath puffing on her rapidly cooling skin; she tenderly caressed the nape of his neck when he kissed her shoulder.

“You okay?” he breathed, shifting his weight to his elbows and looking down at her.  
“I think we need a shower,” she replied with a smile, before kissing his lips.

He kissed her back before straightening his back. He took in her soft curves, smeared with grease, until his eyes met the point where their bodies were still joined. He brushed a fingertip over her clit, making her whimper, before stepping back, his softening cock slipping from her heat. She was still sprawled on the car, her spread legs hanging over the hood. Red watched as the mixture of their bliss slid down the curves of her ass and onto the bright red paint of the hood.

Not bothering with underwear, Red slipped the coverall back on and knotted the sleeves around his hips, before turning back to Liz. He kissed her lower belly once more, interweaving his fingers with hers, and helped her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her when she wobbled on unsteady legs, pulling her against his chest. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, her arms around him, and he lay his cheek on the top of her head.

They both needed a shower, but for now, the tenderness of their embrace was enough to keep them happy and warm.

Behind them, on the hood, the bright red shape of their joined bodies was disappearing slowly, eaten by the black paint.


End file.
